


Aggre: Seeing Red

by Ikustioa



Series: I dunno, it's an Aggre sequel [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: And a present, And maybe again for good measure, Anyway yeah this is smut, F/M, Fic of "Aggre(g/v)ation, Go read it now if you haven't, I have problems with pacing myself, Other, Smut is gonna be in the last chapter, Very polyamory get, it's amazing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:55:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26701792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ikustioa/pseuds/Ikustioa
Summary: You, Sans, Red, and Skull are living happily ever after. ...Maybe a little too happily, if their growing urges are any indication. Faced with a choice between all or nothing, you have to decide whether to start a "normal" life again or just go for it....Let's be realistic, though. You know exactly what you want. The only question is how.
Relationships: Red/My libido, Sans (Undertale)/Reader/Other(s), Skull/My heart
Series: I dunno, it's an Aggre sequel [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943137
Comments: 44
Kudos: 94





	1. Boning Things Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bouncyballblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bouncyballblue/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Aggre(g/v)ation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15229902) by [Llama_Goddess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama_Goddess/pseuds/Llama_Goddess). 



> Hi! You've read Llama_Goddess's sublime work, "Aggre(g/v)ation," right? If not...
> 
> ...then welcome to the future, reader who has just finished with that story! The world is now a better place. This is a gift not only for Llama, but for Dale, who knows what she did. (Namely, be an amazing human being.) I set out to do this over a month ago, and it's only...18 days late! Happy birthday, milady! Love, etc.

_Once upon a time, things were going pretty well. Actually, they were damn near perfect._

_And then sex happened._

_The End._

…Well. A more accurate version would probably start like this:

Once upon a time, in a land of humans and monsters, your giant, veiny _prick_ of a boss decided to outsource your job.

When you came in that fateful Monday morning and were greeted with a pile of severance paperwork, you were not just furious, but completely baffled. Answering phones was one thing, but how the hell could a business use someone who was physically in India or the Philippines to greet visitors and make the stupid coffee?

The answer was that it couldn’t. As your boss’ new (unpaid) intern escorted you to the break room to retrieve your favorite coffee mug, she confided that she’d overheard him telling the COO how innovative he was at cost-cutting—“trimming the fat” were his actual fucking words. You could just see it now: he’d be awarded a little plaque or some other capitalist-pig trophy, wait for the higher-ups to turn their attention elsewhere, then hire a younger, cuter person to replace you at a lower pay rate.

On some level, this wasn’t a total surprise; you couldn’t prove anything, but it probably had something to do with the incident last week when he came up too close to whisper in your ear and, instead of freezing, you’d reflexively slammed your elbow into his gut. Well, screw him. You were actually pretty proud of yourself. The memory of that smug asshole’s contorted face and watery eyes, trying to pretend it didn’t hurt, would warm your heart for _years_ afterward.

Speaking of heartwarming violence, your skeletal harem was also displeased with this turn of events. When you texted them the news at lunchtime, Red popped in to give you a giant hug, opining that beating the shit out of the guy would be a good and helpful thing to do; Skull showed up a moment later with a giant-er cuddle and a suggestion to twist the guy’s head off and shove it down his own throat, which Red also acknowledged as a valid idea.

Sans was sympathetic, but vetoed these suggestions as inadvisable and physically impossible, respectively. Red tried to think of some other consolation, and assured you that if you couldn’t pay your rent and Blue tossed you out, _he_ had a nice big bed with your name on—

“shut the hell up,” Sans snarled, and Red stopped cold. “i’m _not_ kicking her out. as a matter of fact…” He turned to you, voice going velvety soft. “you know that patent i filed right before you moved in? the really big one?” You nodded, wishing he’d use that voice more often…or maybe not. You’d never be able to think straight again. “i wasn’t gonna tell you guys yet, but it’s been approved. i’ve already gotten five or six offers to look over.”

You all made properly impressed noises, because it _was_ a big deal. As usual, Red zeroed in on the real heart of the matter: “well, shit. that’s gonna be a lotta dough,” he said amiably. “lemme know when ya start orderin’ the gold-plated hookers. or just save one fer me.”

“what i mean to say is,” Sans went on, as if no one had said anything and you were covering your face for no reason, “don’t worry about rent. we can talk about it again when you’re back on your feet.”

“or we can sweep her off them,” said Skull, earning a slap on the back from Red.

Cheesy as the line was, you had to smile. Red was an adorably bad influence, their bromance truly one for the ages.

But for now, his concerns about you and his bed were unfounded. You’d technically been laid off, not fired, so the company had promised you a good reference, cut you a decent severance check, and played nice when you filed for unemployment; you could keep up your share of the rent just fine while you job-hunted.

…Well, you _could_ have kept it up, given the friggin’ chance. At the end of the month, Sans always paid his chunk of rent first, and then you took care of the rest; lo and behold, when the thirty-first rolled around and you opened your apartment’s payment app, you were confronted with **TOTAL DUE: $0** in a friendly green font. “Sans!” you shouted.

“can’t hear you, i’m too rich,” he called from the living room, then vanished as you came storming at him, your pillow raised for battle.

The most insulting thing was that you’d been doing really well up till now money-wise. You had kept to your boring-ass budget and vanquished several minibosses of debt – a department-store card, a refinanced student loan, an old line of credit from your first grown-up dental bill – and all that was left was the postgame boss, Visa. You were actually doing the thing old people were always saying to do, using that card just a tiny bit each month while you paid most of the balance down. Technically, you were supposed to not have _any_ balance on it and just pay it off every month…but you were also supposed to have a fucking job, so, yeah.

At least you didn’t have to spend a lot of money on your social life. You were still spoiled as hell: Skull and Bones – ha – were right downstairs, while Red and his brother had found a place just down the road and dropped by almost daily. Between Skull and all three flavors of Pap, there was always someone willing to cook, and Sans was pretty good at sneaking off to grab takeout when the wrong Papyrus wanted to show off his “skills.”

As for your mental health, it was…improving. You could now walk to the corner store and back by yourself without more than a couple of casual glances around – even when your brain screamed at you that someone was sneaking up from behind – and three times out of four, you’d get all the way to the grocery store without interpreting random conversations or ambient traffic noises as a voice growling in your ear. You weren’t even nervous anymore when you got a strange text. …Well, not much.

No, your biggest day-to-day problem actually turned out to be Sans. He’d never jobbed much to begin with, and now seemed to do nothing whatsoever but watch TV and sabotage your work search. The moment you sat down with your laptop to dust off your resume, you got silly-stringed from behind and had to stop what you were doing to go murder him; if you tried locking yourself in your bedroom, there would be a familiar knock on your door, and you’d open it to Skull giving you a goofy little smile. Sans would poke his head around him and say, “skull hasn’t seen the one with the sock opera yet,” and you would be cruelly forced to join them in the living room—what kind of girlfriend would you be if you missed Skull’s reaction?

~

Unemployment _was_ pretty fun, but you had a couple of grown-up considerations to keep you from feeling like a college kid on break. The biggest one was money, of course, but another issue was brought to your attention a few weeks after you got canned; you were leaving the kitchen after breakfast when Sans gave a sudden, conspicuous sniff, then a thumbs-down—your agreed-upon signal that your monthly visitor was on the way soon.

You groaned, and he nodded, scrunching his nasal ridge. It wasn’t that your period grossed him out: he knew how bad your cramps could be, and that stress made them worse. Your cycle had always been a little weird – totally unpredictable, till you became besties with a living hormone detector – but the older you got, the crappier a time you had with it.

Sure enough, that night, Sans found you hunched over the bathroom sink at three a.m., rifling through the medicine cabinet like a Tylenol addict. “you okay, kiddo?” he whispered.

“It’s…” You couldn’t even try to give him a brave smile. “Ow, ow, fucking _ow_ —”

Sans didn’t say anything, just tapped your shoulder for permission to pick you up. You almost leaped into his arms, seeking refuge in the fur of his hoodie and his comforting Christmas-tree scent.

Deceptively strong as ever, Sans carried you out to the couch bridal-style; he set you down and let you curl up on your side facing outward, then climbed over you to snuggle against your back. The two of you always fit perfectly like this…

You whimpered as more pain crunched your midsection. Sans murmured in sympathy, stroking the hair off your clammy forehead. “Do the thing,” you croaked. “Please?”

Instantly, you saw a faint glow reflected in the blank TV screen. You tried not to flinch as his hand slid from your hip to rest lightly on your belly. His fingers spread as wide as they could; a moment later, you sighed in relief as heat surged through him and settled into your poor, stupid muscles. You made a grateful sound, and felt Sans nod. “try to get some sleep, kid.”

You were half expecting a followup dad joke about not having work in the morning, but all he did was inhale, then start a low, soft rumble against your back. You smiled a little—Sans didn’t purr often enough. Surrounded by loving warmth, the rest of your body and then mind gradually relaxed, allowing you to drift off to sleep.

Voices roused you way too soon, morning light poking your eyelids. You heard Sans and Red conferring about you in whispers; the latter was non-pervily volunteering to put you to bed so Sans could rest after running his magic all night. Sans seemed reluctant, leaning in to hold you tighter and…nudging the small of your back? That was weird, you thought muzzily. His hips were parallel to yours.

For no apparent reason, he froze. The warmth at your back disappeared—your eyes were still closed, but you could hear him reappear a few feet away, cursing under his breath. “what the fuck, blue?” Red hissed.

You wondered why Red was so upset to hear Sans say bad words. “Guys?” You rubbed your eyes, trying to sit up. “What…?”

Before you could focus on either of them, you felt the swooshy, cloud-like sensation of Red’s magic lifting you off the couch and into his arms. “fuckin’ shit. _way_ too early fer that,” Red grumbled. When you started to sit up against his sternum, he hitched you closer and said soothingly, “not talkin’ ‘bout you, sweetheart. c’mon, time fer bed.”

You felt him heading toward your room and tried to tell him you were fine, but you couldn’t: he was so comfortable that you were already dozing off.

\---

This meant you didn’t see him set you down with irate tenderness and glare briefly over his shoulder. He sighed, then leaned over the bed to join you. To hell with Blue. He could—

Red paused. He plucked at the front of his black jeans, and glared at his pelvis, as if trying to shame something into behaving. A moment later, he gave up, tucked you in, and went back to the living room, hands buried in his pockets to keep his jacket pulled down. “so, as i was sayin’,” he snapped. “the _fuck_ , blue.”

“you think i did it on purpose? i didn’t even—” Sans noticed how Red was standing, and growled under his breath. “really? and you’re on _my_ ass about it? put that crap away!”

“least i wasn’t dry-humpin’ anybody,” Red muttered. Sans’ eyes flared blue and yellow, and Red raised one hand. “okay, okay! shit! hold on a sec.” A moment of concentration later, he took his other hand out of his pocket. “there, all better.”

Awkward silence descended. “sorry,” said Red, doing his best to sound reasonable. “i know ya didn’t mean t’do it. dunno if she even noticed.” He shuffled his feet. “but…”

Sans shook his head. “i know. i’ll apologize when she wakes up.” He examined the tips of his phalanges. “so it’s not just me,” he said, as if to himself. “i think the first time was a couple of months ago. you?”

“yep, that sounds about right. wasn’t so bad at first, but since she’s been stayin’ home, my magic’s gotten real…peppy. even when i’ve been usin’ it all day, the second i see her, it wants t’pop right back up.” Red smirked a little. “yer lucky you’re already here. you can jus’ go to yer room and—”

“i don’t have to every time! some of us have actual control of our…” Sans caught himself as Red’s smirk widened, reminding the other monster how little self-control he’d just demonstrated. “yeah, yeah.” Sans stalked back to the couch, though he was too restless to sit down. “this is serious. i don’t know how much longer we can keep wasting magic like this before it starts to really mess with us.”

Red’s amusement faded. It was true: skeletons weren’t designed for extracurricular boners, or at least not with the frequency human males got them. Outside of a heat and its crazy magical output, it was a waste of their resources to stand ready for action when none was to be had. A few false starts or dashed hopes here and there wouldn’t kill anyone, but for it to happen every single day for months on end…

Sans crossed his arms, started to sit down, and abruptly stood back up. “do you know if skull’s had the same problem?”

Red tapped his sneakers a couple of times, scratching his cervical vertebrae. “yeah, actually. saw it the last time he was playin’ with her hair. poor guy.” Tap, tap. “damn. it’s great bein’ with her all the time, but…guess it’s _too_ great, huh?”

Sans was quiet. Red waited to hear that he should keep his ass at home, then, but Blue just said, “i’m not coming into heat for a couple more weeks. you?”

“same damn thing,” Red snapped. “we’re all still here, ‘n we all still want ‘er.”

More silence—tense, but strangely agreeable, facts having been laid out and acknowledged. “it’s partly my fault,” Sans admitted. “i’ve been bugging her too much during the day. we’ve gotta let her find another job so we’re not around her so constantly. that should help.”

“yeah…” Red paused to check that your door was still closed. “so…can i tell ya what i think is goin’ on, without you givin’ me any crap?”

Sans considered it for a moment. “probably.”

“fair ‘nuff.” The bigger skeleton sighed. “i think i’ve been around her long enough that my magic is kind of assumin’ she’s my mate already. but it knows she ain’t, ‘cause i haven’t fucked her, and it wants t’go ahead ‘n make it official. makes sense, right?” Sans’ socket twitched, but he nodded. “what’s weird is that i’m not freakin’ out about it. my magic’s bein’… _patient_. feels like, ‘welp, there she is, ya know what to do,’ tryin’ to wait me out.”

There was no answer. Red tapped his foot again, thinking out loud: “it can’t be ‘cause of the heat comin’ up, either. it’s been goin’ on too long, and it ain’t goin’ like usual. it’s kinda…” Damn, this was awkward. “i mean…i know you guys are here, and you want ‘er, too, but…i don’t…really care. i should hate yer fuckin’ guts, but…i don’t. ya just don’t feel like a threat.” He kicked at nothing on the carpet. “does that make any sense, or am i goin’ nuts?”

Sans’ eyes flashed again, but Red kept his head down and his posture subdued, showing he hadn’t meant it as an insult. So Sans relaxed a little, and muttered, “nah. for once, i think you’ve got it exactly right.” He glanced out the window, face tinted ever-so-slightly blue. “i don’t know what we should do. i’ve never heard of three different monsters having the same mate, assuming she wants to be with us her whole damn life.”

Magic swept through Red again, a little hope warring with a _lot_ of fear, because he’d been thinking the same thing. It had started as a bunch of harmless, kinky fantasies about you in bed, gradually expanding to the many possible combinations of you, him, and maybe the others in bed, or on the floor, or the bed _and_ the floor, though Skull might need the couch…

But then his polyamorous fantasies started getting less fun-based and more into the logistics of who’d get you where and when – dictated one hundred percent by you, of course – and he realized that he wasn’t feeling any resentment or possessiveness; he just thought of how satisfying it’d be to keep _you_ satisfied, having some semi-friendly competition over who could keep their scent on you the longest, and what would happen if you ever got—

That was when he’d literally bashed his head on the wall to knock some of that shit out, and then got into a fight with his brother for making noise in the middle of the night.

It hadn’t helped: the thoughts kept coming back. Red had hoped that it was just him, and that the others were going to stay smart about this and not let him muddy the waters by wanting actual sex, but it looked like Blue and possibly also Skull were thinking the same thing.

No, _he_ wasn’t going to say anything. He’d rather wank himself into dust than scare you off and ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him. Instead, he made himself chuckle. “well, we ain’t entirely different monsters, are we? i mean, we all got the same taste in women.”

The words _same_ _taste_ hung in the air, but not in a funny or offensive way. Both skeletons were averting their eyelights now, and an onlooker might have been amused to see their identical expressions, except for the colors patterning their cheekbones. Red wondered what his counterpart was thinking, but wasn’t going to risk saying anything else…till Skull walked in and sat heavily on the couch. “you, too?” he inquired.

Then, of course, Red had to admit that it was hard to tell who he was talking to, pun intended. They each had one.

\---

When you woke up a few hours later, your first order of business was to go to the bathroom. Then you came out to the living room, where your three favorite skeletons were all getting to their feet. “you okay, sweetheart?” Red asked, muting the TV.

“Uh…no.” You kneaded your midsection as Sans and Red stood back to let Skull collect you; he gave them a tiny nod as he sank into the couch with you in his lap. To the others’ delight, he unzipped his jacket, folded it around you, and zipped it back up; they uttered quiet “aww”s as the zipper went right on up past the top of your head, leaving only your feet sticking out the bottom. In unison, they got their phones out and gestured for Skull to smile. He did.

“Are you taking pictures?” you demanded from the depths of your new home.

“no” and “nope,” you heard distantly.

“send that to me,” said Skull, grinning wider as your feet wiggled in protest.

Eventually, and grudgingly, they put the phones away. “she can’t use magic to breathe, big guy,” Red reminded Skull, who pulled the zipper down far enough to expose your tousled hair, then your nose. There was a collective pause…and the phones came back out.

“Knock it off,” you said with as much dignity as you could muster, feeling like a joey in its mama’s pouch. “We all need to talk.” You tried to reach up and grab the zipper to free yourself, but your feeble efforts served only to set the paparazzi off again. “Son of a—listen to me, guys! You realize it’s been three weeks already since I got laid off?”

Sans lowered his phone. So did Red, who was mumbling the usual line about all the different ways you could get laid. “I’m serious!” you snapped. “I’ve got to find another job. I need some time to really look for stuff, or I’m gonna burn through all my money and have to live in a dumpster.” You shuddered, and Skull draped an arm over you. “Or with my parents.”

“i told you, it doesn’t matter how long it takes for you to find something. i’m not gonna evict my g—best friend.” Sans strolled over, and Skull allowed the much smaller skeleton to reach out and boop your nose. “actually, i meant to ask you about that. one of the lawyers helping me go over my contracts needs an assistant. can i send him your resume?”

How long had he been waiting to tell you that? “Of course!” You shifted forward, unsure how Skull had turned himself enough for his hipbone to be poking you. “Do I have to know any legal stuff, or—”

You didn’t notice the look that flew back and forth between the three skeletons, and you didn’t even recognize the sound Skull made before Sans’ magic yanked the jacket open, picked you up, and plunked you on the other side of the couch.

“What the—” You glared at Sans, then scooched back over to Skull and rose to your knees. His single eyelight darted to and fro, anywhere but at you, and his cheekbones were almost cobalt-blue with distress. “What’s wrong?” you asked, tugging his sleeve.

“yeahhh, about that.” Sans was playing with the gaps between his metacarpals. “that’s something else we need to talk about. it’s…with you home all the time, our magic’s a little…”

“horny,” Red said helpfully.

“R/red!” you and Sans snapped.

Skull gently nudged your hand away, and you made a frustrated noise. “sorry, pumpkin,” Skull murmured, petting your hair with his feather-light touch. “it’s just…uh…” He squirmed, looking helplessly at his best friend.

“what he means to say is, we’re all a little _bone_ -ly.” Red gave you a wink. “get it?”

You didn’t, until you noticed how Skull was fussing with his jacket. Then you thought of how he’d set you aside so fast the other day, and Red pulling you away from Sans earlier that morning, and your face was suddenly hot enough to light a birthday candle. “Oh” was all you could think to say, and they nodded.

Well, crap. Of course, you knew it was possible, but since when did skeletons just _get_ those, outside a heat? You supposed it was almost that time again…

…But if it was near-heat-related, why didn’t anyone smell good or want to kill each other? Sans seemed less like he wanted you carnally and more like he expected a kick in the ecto-dick. When you met his gaze, he actually flinched. “look, about earlier—i am _so_ sorry!” His face was solid azure. “it was _really_ messed up—you were in pain, and i was supposed to be helping, not taking advantage like some kind of—”

“Sans!” You waved your hands to shut him up. “You did help! If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have slept at all! And I know you didn’t mean to. None of you would ever aim that at me on purpose, right?” You turned to Skull, missing the others’ expressions; your giant lovebug wouldn’t look at you till you rubbed his femur. Then you saw _his_ expression and hastily withdrew your hand, your pulse fluttering. “S-Seriously, guys, it’s okay. It happens all the time with humans.” You grinned. “At least you guys only have that problem when it’s roofie season.”

Red snorted, Skull looked away again, and Sans shook his head. “first off, it’s _not_ roofies, just pheromones. and second, we’re not humans.” He paused, looking even more uncomfortable. “it’s a lot more complicated for us to do that than it is for a human body to redirect blood flow, so the fact that it keeps happening is kind of a big deal.” You frowned, trying to figure out where this was going, and he took a deep breath. “to tell you the truth, it’s probably because we—”

“blue’s bein’ dramatic. we’re just goin’ inta heat a couple weeks from now,” Red cut in. “ya might wanna go ahead and stay with yer parents till we settle back down.”

That…almost made sense. “I can’t. They’re in Florida,” you reminded him. Your mom had been thrilled when her third-cousin-in-law or something let them stay in their condo for the winter, but you’d already had to fend off multiple invitations to come visit. “I’m _not_ going down there for three whole weeks. Besides, I can’t wait that long to start another job, remember?”

There was an extremely uncomfortable silence. “I’m not gonna be here when you’re actually in heat,” you hastened to assure them. Why were Sans and Red eye-fighting? “I’ll find a motel and have some me time, just like we planned.” Your abdomen crunched again, and you squeezed your eyes shut. “But first, I’m gonna go lie down. Okay? You boys _behave_.”

They nodded, but you didn’t like the atmosphere at all. Well, whatever, you thought sourly. They were big, grown-up skeletons. You’d let them work it out.

\---

The second your bedroom door closed, Sans stepped forward, squaring up to Red the way they almost never did anymore. “what the hell, red? you’re the one who said it’s got nothing to do with our heats! what are you gonna tell her in a few weeks when we’re still doing this?”

“what were _you_ gonna tell her, short stuff?” Red shot back. “‘sorry, we all wuv oo sooo much that our magic is wondering why we haven’t fucked you yet, and the only way t’break the spell is fer you to put out’?”

Skull gave a warning rumble. “i was going to tell her not to worry if we have to spend a little less time around her so we can try to calm down!” Sans snarled. “you want her to think we hate her all of a sudden ‘cause _you’re_ too scared to have a grown-up conversation?”

Red ground his teeth. “i’m not fuckin’ scared! it’s just dumb to make her think she’s got somethin’ else to worry about when all we hafta do is wait fer her to get outta the house more!”

“too late for that,” said Skull. “i think about her all the time, even when i don’t see her.”

Red looked at Sans, hoping for assurance that they could dial things back to the way they’d been, but the smaller skeleton seemed pretty grim. “it’s possible. we won’t know till our heats have passed and she’s gone back to work. i can put in a good word and pretty much guarantee she gets hired.” He was playing with his metacarpals again. “if we’re still feeling frisky after that, we’ll just have to keep some distance. she—”

“so, what? our worst-case solution is ‘pretend she has cooties’?” Red felt his eyes heating up. “fer how fuckin’ long?”

“i don’t _know_ , red,” Sans said with exaggerated patience. “that’s why we have to—”

“hey, what if we just treat it like an egg timer?” Red’s laugh had a hysterical edge. “hang out with her till ya get a pocket rocket, then hop on outta the oven!”

Sans and Skull glanced at each other, as if verifying they’d both heard the same dumb thing. “okay,” said Sans, “that barely even makes any—”

“it’s fine!” Red snapped. “you get her that job, she stops hangin’ around ‘n drivin’ us all nuts, badabing, bada _boom_. okay?”

“not okay,” Skull retorted. “this isn’t like you, red.”

“yeah! why the hell are you so embarrassed all of a sudden?” Sans demanded. “don’t you want a chance to make more ‘bone’ jokes? you never shut up about it while we’re in heat!”

Good question. Red shut his sockets, trying to articulate why he was…not _scared_ to tell you, dammit. Just…cautious. After all, this wasn’t the realm of fantasy; this was reality, where he could _lose_ you— “it ain’t the same damn thing, okay? heats only last a week! we can’t ask ‘er to put up with three dicks pointed straight at her every time we see her!”

“well, what’s your solution?” Sans snapped. “pretend nothing’s wrong until your magic’s an absolute wreck, and _still_ not know what to do?”

Skull sighed, his breath rushing through his nasal cavity like a train blowing off steam. “we should be honest, and ask her what she thinks.”

“no, we _shouldn’t_! am i the only one who’s actually thought this over? how are you not scared that she’ll—” Red caught himself too late. Pinned by three glowing eyelights, he snarled wordlessly, turning to face your door. “just…just wait till she’s workin’ again. that’ll fix it.” Before they could argue, he yanked out his phone and held it up. “hey, looky here, it’s almost lunchtime. gonna make some money. see ya.”

“red,” Skull said, but he was already gone.


	2. Coming to a Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! Less than a week late! Merry Christmas, Dale, you wonderful human being and awesome friend. <3

You were definitely irked that the guys were fighting again, but it had been so long since they’d had a tiff like this – and there was such a flagrant lack of furniture-breaking or magic-crackly sounds – that you kind of hoped they’d talk loudly enough for you to overhear. But no, all you caught were the rumbles and short cadences of some thoroughly upset skeletons, and then silence. Bleh, you thought, pulling the covers over your head. Bleh to them _all_.

…No good. You couldn’t get back to sleep. Eventually, you gave up, clambered out of bed with a therapeutic blankie over your shoulders, and padded out to the living room.

To your disappointment, Skull and Red were gone. “hi,” Sans said awkwardly, putting his phone down and getting to his feet. “how you doin’?”

“I’m bleh. What’s going on?” you inquired. “Where is everybody?”

Sans tried to smile, but it was so fake that you just glared at him. “it’s…y’know,” he mumbled, letting his grin droop. Shuffling over to the coffee table, he picked up a heating pad and one of the juice boxes that Bones kept buying for everyone, holding them out to you like a lion tamer offering raw steak. “here. hope you’re feelin’ a little better.”

You made as if to take the juice box, then grabbed his sleeve before he could retreat. “What were you guys arguing about? Is it the bone thing?” you demanded.

Sans took a shaky breath. He set the stuff back down with a couple flicks of magic, and surprised you by stepping in and wrapping his arms around your middle. “sorry,” he said into your shoulder. “i…” He shook his head, pressing his warm face to the crook of your neck.

Well, you were still mad, but you weren’t going to turn down cuddle time with your favorite roommate. Resting your cheek on his skull, you looped your arms around him…

…aaaand there he immediately went again down there, forcing him to step back. “ _damn_ it,” he said sheepishly. “i’m really sorry. i thought i could—”

“Are you kidding me?” you couldn’t help asking. “Are you _sure_ this is just because your heat’s coming up?” You did your best not to look down, but it was…hard. Ha ha. “I mean, I think I would’ve remembered this from last time!”

“fuckin’ red,” Sans muttered under his breath. Then he jerked his head at the kitchen. “come sit down. we owe you an explanation, and you’re not gonna get it from him.”

You complied, because this _was_ getting old—you wanted to hug your boys without junk in the way!

In the kitchen, Sans strategically kept his back to you while he talked; you couldn’t really complain, as he was also busy making bacon-and-grilled-cheese sandwiches. “So,” you said as he brought you a plate and a glass of chocolate milk, “it’s not a heat thing?” You made your eyes stay above his waist until he could turn and scuttle back to the stove. “We’ve just been around each other long enough for you to keep getting a stiffy when you’re not supposed to?”

He grunted, slapping another chunk of bacon into the pan. “yeah, basically. we each thought we could ignore it, but…yeah.”

“And it’s bad for you, and me being here all day makes it worse?” you persisted, peeling your sandwich open enough to extract the bacon. “Do I need to stay in my room or something?”

“no!” he snapped. “you don’t have to do anything!” The bacon sizzled in agreement. “besides,” he grumbled, “it wouldn’t really help. as long as you’re in the apartment, we can still smell you here.”

“Of course you can,” you muttered. “So, why did Red think he could lie about it?” You made the sandwich “talk” along with you by flapping the bread slices: “That was silly of him.”

Your amazing wit was lost on the skeleton, whose shoulders had hunched. “‘cause he’s a chickenshit,” Sans said irritably, scraping the pan much harder than necessary.

You blinked, wondering if you’d ever heard Sans call anyone that. “Is that what you guys were fighting about?” you asked, popping a slice of bacon into your mouth.

…Oh, damn, that was _amazing_. At least bacon understood you. How did he always cook it so perfectly?

Sans’ whole body jerked, and it took a moment to realize you’d made a rapturous little noise. That probably wasn’t the politest thing to do, under the circumstances…but how else were you supposed to react to cheesy bacon?

“uh…yeah. he didn’t want to tell you ‘cause he thinks stuff will go away if you ignore it long enough.” Scrape. Sizzle. “but we don’t want you to think you’re doing anything wrong, or that it’s your problem,” he hastened to assure you, clicking the stove off and rubbing the back of his darkening skull. “all you need to know is that if we start keeping away from you, it’s not because we don’t like you. …pretty much the opposite.” The blue-faced monster brought the second plate to the table, giving you a wary side-eye in case of more noises. “we’ll think of something. just don’t be alarmed if—no, _when_ it happens again, okay?”

“I went through middle and high school, Sans. I’m not scared of random boners. I’m just glad you told me what’s going on.” You scrubbed the grease off your fingers using your blankie, then reached over to take his hand as he sat down, running your thumb over those cool little gaps between his metacarpals. “Okay?” you prodded.

He gave you a lopsided skele-smile, squeezing your hand back. “yeah, you’re okay.”

That wasn’t what you were asking, but something else occurred to you, and you couldn’t help veering off on a tangent: “Isn’t the whole pop-a-bone thing kind of dumb from an evolutionary standpoint? I mean, if getting one takes that much magic, don’t you need way more to actually go all the way with someone? It sounds too easy to sex yourself to death.”

Sans snorted. “not necessarily.” His grip tightened. “think of it like…like a kitchen sink. if you turn the water on to do the dishes and then turn it right back off, that’s totally fine. it’s working as intended. but if there’s a constant leak, it ends up wasting a lot more water than if you just ran it normally, and it can mess up the pipes. also, you’re not getting any dishes clean, and the sound drives you absolutely _nuts_. make sense?”

Interesting. “Would having actual sex with someone be like calling a plumber, then?”

The skeleton smiled uncomfortably. “you could say so, yeah.” His warm, smooth thumb drifted over your knuckles, leaving a little tingle in its wake. “that’s magic for ya.”

Damn, that felt nice. If only you had the nerve to make a “joke” about offering to take a look at the pipes! Instead, you nodded gravely, hoping your face wasn’t giving you away. “And if you use the hose attachment, then you end up spraying it everywhere and make a huge mess.”

“exactly. i…” Sans paused, turning blue again as you snickered. “that’s not how it works!” he scolded you, flicking your forehead lightly. “ _anyway_. like i said, don’t worry about it.” He released you and got to his feet, swiveling to keep you from seeing his front; after a short pause, he surprised you with a peck on the cheek. “finish up— _dishes_ the perfect time to get some rest. just send me your resume before you go back to sleep, okay?”

“Sure. Thanks, Sans,” you murmured, and politely waited till you heard the TV to come on before rekindling your affair with the bacon.

Well, that was food for thought as you settled back into bed: one did not learn every day that one’s beloved skeletons were as full-on hangry for you as you were for them. You’d been enjoying their company more than ever as the halcyon days of unemployment passed, everyone finally comfortable with the way things were; you had long since convinced yourself that it was greedy and stupid to want anything more. You could totally handle having so much raw, calcified sexiness around, no big deal, ha ha, just keep those thoughts for the shower, etc. etc.

…But if they weren’t comfortable with things – with you – anymore, then…what now?

Your imagination was far too happy to step up and answer that one. Thoughts danced through your head and right on down the line to other regions—mental images of you, and Red, and Sans, and Skull, and…and plumbing, and whether you could—

Right on cue, your self-doubt reflex barged in: if you could _what_ , exactly? What did you want to happen? If you got carried away and slept with one of them, what would the others do? You doubted they’d be willing to share…the thought of which was so arousing that you had to skip straight to the end of the lecture. That was the part with the worst-case scenario where they all decided it was best for you to move out, or for Sans to move out, and the guys each found another monster to help with their plumbing issues. You were reasonably sure that no one wanted that, but who knew what might happen if their magic refused to settle down?

The second-place contender was doing it with one of them, only to have _him_ get carried away and bite you, permanently shutting out two people you loved more than life itself. If you hadn’t picked one of them by now—

Just the thought hurt. You didn’t _want_ to pick one of them. You already had your cake and were eating it, too, but you wanted to…also…fuck the cake, because you loved it so much?

Eh, that metaphor sucked to begin with. Why would it be spoiled or selfish to eat cake that you already had?

…or to see if it _was_ possible for things to go all the way without ruining your family dynamic? Monsters had recreational sex all the time, no biting or soul-groping necessary, and the guys had demonstrated superb self-control when they weren’t in heat: Sans never pressed his home-field advantage, Skull would sooner eat his own head than scare you again, and for all his flirting, Red had slept alongside you dozens of times and never even copped a feel, because he knew you wouldn’t be okay with it.

What would happen if you let them know that you were now _extremely_ okay with it?

Of course, if, say, you invited Red to do more than sleep beside you, and things got far enough, Sans might overhear and bust in to make sure you were okay, and then it would be only fair to get _collaborative_ , the way Red had once suggested. You wouldn’t dream of leaving Skull out, either, though given his size in general and the length of time since you’d last done the horizontal polka, you’d probably better start on an easier—

No! Bad thoughts! You needed to stop with the hormonal crap and focus. The first order of business was to tell Red you knew what was going on and weren’t freaked out. Everyone had learned how to handle their heats, so they could handle constant low-to-medium sexual desire, right? Sort of? If his magic absolutely wouldn’t calm down, he just had to stop dropping by every day. It would suck, but you’d do anything not to mess things up, and you were pretty sure he would, too. First, you just had to pin him down.

…Metaphorically. In conversation. Not in bed. Not jumping on him and telling him not to move while you did unspeakable sex things, like getting your hands in his—

_No! BAD thoughts! Bad!_

~

A few hours later, having accomplished several grown-up things on your phone, watched eighteen kitten videos in a row, and sent a couple of them to Bones, you caved and texted Red:

**You**

Hey, jerkweed

I know everything, no thanks to you

And you don’t scare me

Seriously, if I ran from every wang I saw, I would be dead

Bc I would wind up in traffic or the ocean or something idk

Red

[sad cat meme]

Talk to me, dammit

You were ready to give up when your phone dinged at you.

**Creative Name for Red**

Can I ASS you something

Your heart leapt.

**You**

Ask away

It’ll take more than pervy questions to defeat me

Also, the ass joke is dead

Put it in the old-jokes home already

**Creative Name for Red**

Lol

BUTT dear

**You**

Don’t make me walk over there and hurt you

It’s cold, and the street behind your complex is like Murder Alley

**Creative Name for Red**

DO NOT WALK HERE

I’m about to go to work anyway

**You**

What?? It’s way past lunchtime

Nice try

Talk to me, you giant chicken

[chicken meme]

Taaaaaaaaaaaaaaalk

If you’re not gonna talk, at least come ravish my cramps away

Several more minutes passed. You almost gave up before your phone dinged again:

**Creative Name for Red**

Sorry you’re a gross human

Cause humans are fuckin gross

…

**You**

NO

Don’t you fucking dare

**Creative Name for Red**

…………..period

**You**

GODDAMMIT RED

WHY

**Creative Name for Red**

Ha ha

I RED your mind

**You**

I hate you

Dick

**Creative Name for Red**

No you can’t talk to him

**You**

I’m sure he and your hand have a very full social calendar

**Creative Name for Red**

Oh it’s full all right :D

**You**

Ha ha you totally just admitted it

But for reals, don’t worry if that pops up again

It happens

Just don’t lie to me again >:(

And try not to ravish me too hard when you sleep over

There was another uncomfortably long pause.

**Creative Name for Red**

Nah, the doctor said I need to cut ravish out of my diet

**You**

Lame

I’m actually going to the doctor tomorrow

I can ask her what my recommended daily dose should be

This time, his response was almost immediate:

**Creative Name for Red**

Doctor??? What’s wrong

**You**

Relax

Just checking some lady stuff before my old health plan runs out

You know

Seeing if we can get my uterus to stop punching me in the dick

**Creative Name for Red**

Oh

K

Have fun getting your lady stuffed

Take lots of pics

**You**

You cornball romantic

What were you going to ask?

You said you had a question

What were you going to ass??

**Creative Name for Red**

Gotta go

Later, sweetheart

**You**

Red

Dammit

You didn’t hear from him again the rest of the day.

~

There were plenty of good reasons to let the doctor talk you into it, so…you did.

You kept reminding yourself on your way back from your appointment that it was a good idea, because it was, overall. But you also let yourself be nervous about the guys’ reaction, and you were immensely grateful to come home and find no one there but Sans, who was holed up in his room on a rare conference call.

You showered and got dressed without disturbing the bandage on your arm, which was getting a little sore as the anaesthetic wore off. Then, faced with the prospect of leaving your room, you bravely decided to lie down instead and watch stuff for well over an hour.

First up was a video you’d stumbled across a few months ago, where a guy played several different characters in a love triangle: two boys confessed their love for one girl, who considered it for a moment…then proposed that they all just fuck each other. The boys thought it over, and agreed. _“And so anime was solved forever!”_ proclaimed the announcer.

It always made you laugh, and a few days ago, you would’ve gleefully sent it to the group text with your three originals. The idea didn’t seem as comfortably implausible anymore, but you still almost did it, just to test the waters. Your very bad, no-good thoughts were creeping up again, whispering that their fight the other day hadn’t seemed to be a competitive thing; if jealousy wasn’t a factor anymore, maybe they _could_ share~

You were startled by a sudden knock on the door. “everything all right, kiddo?” Sans asked. “got a couple of boneheads out here wantin’ to check on you.”

“Uh…” Crap. “Yeah, I’ll be right out.” You got up, adjusted your sleeve, and opened your door, strolling past Sans to the living room. “Hey, fellas,” you said casually. “What’s up?”

The TV was on. Skull glanced at you, and his eyelight expanded a little. “heya, sweetheart,” said Red. “how’s…uh…”

Crap in a hat. They were just _staring_ at you. “You, too?” you asked, turning slightly.

You heard a not-normal sound from the hallway. “Okay. Get over here,” you said crisply, and stood by to let Sans walk past you. “Sit,” you ordered, switching the TV off.

Sans sat down, and all three watched you from the couch like nervous cats. “Oh, for—” You weren’t in the mood for this. “Do I even want to know what you’re thinking right now?”

“the fuck kinda doctor were you at?” Red snapped.

You glared at him. “I went to the _sex_ doctor, Red. I had crazy monkey sex with—”

“that’s _not_ _funny_.”

Skull’s flat, heavy voice reminded you that this was not a joke to them. You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply. Wikipedia hadn’t been kidding about how fast the thing worked. Well, it’d been your decision to mess with your hormones, and it wasn’t their fault that they could already smell it. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “Look.” You removed your sweater and pulled up your T-shirt sleeve to reveal a thick bandage, shaking your head at their concern. “I’m fine! It’s just a little doodad she put in my arm.”

“why?” Skull asked. “what is it?”

“It’s a hormonal implant. There’s a chance it could stop my period—my cramps have been killing me.” You looked at Sans for backup; he nodded slowly. “It’s reversible, and my old health plan is paying for it, _and_ I suck at remembering to take pills, so we’re giving this a try.”

“what’s in it? why’s it make ya smell like that?” demanded Red.

“I don’t know!” you exclaimed. “I have no frame of reference for weird hormone smells! Is it that bad?”

Red blinked, cheekbones tinted scarlet. “it’s hard t’explain.” He glanced at Skull, who shrugged helplessly.

You sighed, moving back to sit down against the wall. “Is it another monster sex thing?” You pulled up your knees, wadded up your sweater, and buried most of your face in it. Stupid, stupid—why did you ever think it was a good idea to change your internal chemistry? “Never mind. I was hoping it’d help you guys calm down if my cycle stopped, but…” You swallowed. “I’m really sorry. The doctor can take it back out, but I can’t afford it till my new insurance kicks in. Can you wait a little, or do I need to go stay somewhere?”

It was quiet for a long moment, and you braced yourself. If you’d looked up, though, you would have seen their surprise, then chagrin, and abject guilt, and how they cringed when you sniffled. “no! no, no, no, ya don’t hafta do that, sweetheart,” Red said hurriedly. “never mind us, we’re just a buncha dumbass horndogs—”

“What?” You could have cried. “I literally can’t get pregnant while I’ve got this thing in! How can it possibly make me smell like sex?!”

“he didn’t mean it like that!” Sans sounded almost as upset as he’d been yesterday morning. “we’re sorry, kiddo! it’s not your fault we’re bein’ weird and—”

“It’s not _your_ fault you’re monsters! You can’t help smelling this stuff! I shouldn’t have just gone for it and hoped it’d be okay!”

“we _are_ weird, pumpkin,” Skull said firmly. “not you.”

“yeah! what they said!” Red scratched the crown of his skull so hard that his phalanges made a faint screech; you flinched, and the others glared at him. “what?”

Sans was frantically clicking something on his phone. “here we go,” he said after a moment. “looks like the thing’s designed to stop ovulation. it’s almost sort of like her being pregnant, so that’s probably why it’s freaking us out.” You glanced up, and their smiles became almost manically reassuring. “ _please_ don’t feel like you have to avoid doing what’s best for you because of us,” Sans continued. “like i said before, it’s our problem, not yours. okay?”

“Okay,” you mumbled, and were rewarded with more genuine smiles. Sighing, you put down your sweater and started getting up.

To your amusement, Sans and Red stood at the exact same time and nearly bonked heads, falling back onto the couch. As usual, Skull ignored their growling, glaring, etc., appearing directly in front of you to scoop you up and set you gently on your feet. He leaned down to nuzzle your hair, and you relaxed as his arm settled around your shoulders, careful not to put pressure on the bandage.

It was such a relief to be cuddling with someone again that you deliberately ignored how he was bending to avoid you lower-half-wise; you also chose not to care that Sans came up and stopped short of actually hugging you. “sorry,” he murmured, his hand resting on the small of your back. “hope the thing works.”

You sighed gratefully into Skull’s jacket. “Are you sure?” you couldn’t help asking from between them. Red had sunk further into the couch, scowling at his sneakers. “Red, are you gonna be—”

“we said it’s _fine_ , goddammit!” The bigger and smaller skeletons felt you flinch again, and Red squirmed as they growled at him in unison. “look, it’s—” There was a horrible pause; then, to your intense relief, he gave a careless shrug. “sorry, sweetheart. just…quit worryin’ about us ‘n think of yer damn self, okay? do whatcha gotta do.”

The others murmured agreement, and you smiled back at him. “If you say so.”

“hell yeah, we do,” Red said heartily. He got up and strolled over to ruffle your hair, then swoop in for a kiss on your forehead. “anyway, i was just here t’check on ya. later, kitten.”

“Red?” He paused in the act of getting his phone out, and you glanced at the other two to include them. “This whole thing with your…stuff, me smelling like this—we’re okay, right?”

They seemed to get your meaning, if the sudden tension was any indication. “always,” said Skull, shifting to glare at the others.

Bless his giant heart, he was the only real-life person who could say that without being sappy. You burrowed into his jacket again and squeezed him as hard as you could; he gave the little click-huff that passed for a chuckle, running his phalanges through your hair.

“right,” Sans said a moment later, and leaned in for an arm-avoiding hug. Never mind if he sounded a little less certain, you thought. That was fine, just Sans being his cautious self…

As for Red, he’d gone completely still, his eyelights receding to pinpricks. The three of you turned to him again, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “yeah,” he mumbled at the floor. “i—”

_Dee dee DEE! Doo doo doo doo~_

The mood was shattered by your phone going off, and it wasn’t just any old ringtone: it made you twitch so violently that Skull jumped back. “Dammit, Sans!” you roared, turning to swat at your roommate; he skipped away, cackling, as the tone repeated itself. “Fucking ‘Baby Shark’?! _Really?_ What did I tell you about screwing with my phone?!”

Skull closed his eyes, as if in pain, while Red took one look at your face and nearly choked. Meanwhile, Sans was laughing so hard that he could barely say, “no, no, it’s good! it’s a good thing, i swear! seriously, you’ve gotta answer it!”

You drew your arm back to throw the phone instead. Sans shook his head at you, then plucked it from your grasp, tapped it, and said, “good evening, sir,” his tone so calm and courteous that Red stopped giggling and you paused mid-grab to listen. “yes, this is sans. …yes, i am, thank you, and yourself? good, good. did you get a chance to look over her resume?” Your eyes widened as the caller blah-blahed enthusiastically, ending on a question. “why, yes, sir, she certainly is. let me get her for you, please.” He winked at you, held the phone out…

~

…and three days later, you marched up the stairs to your apartment, flung open the door, and threw your coat down in triumph. “Guess whaaaaat?” you caroled down the hall.

“whaaaat?” four skeletal voices chorused back.

You kicked off your shoes and jogged into the living room, posing dramatically on the threshold. “Guess who’s got two thumbs and _health insurance_ , bitches?!”

Loud were the congratulations and merry indeed the celebration that followed. Sans had ignored your command to keep it low-key in case you bombed your job interview, gathering Red, Skull, Bones, and two dozen cupcakes for your return. You were passed from hug to hug and more hug, then enfolded by Skull so you could sit down on the couch long enough to tell them about it. “Mr. Owen is the sweetest old man I’ve ever met,” you gushed, adjusting your sore arm to rest on Skull’s humerus. “He said my resume looked amazing and the whole thing was just an excuse to have a nice lunch. It’s gonna be like working for my grandpa!”

“that’s great, sweetheart!” You hadn’t seen Red so happy in a long time. “when do ya start?”

“Monday! It’s basically just taking messages and keeping his trial calendar updated, but he’s paying me a little more than I used to make,” you said happily. “And like I said, full benefits!” On impulse, you hopped up, pranced over to where Sans was sitting, and pulled his head down to give him a huge, lip-smacky kiss on the crown of his skull. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” To the others’ amusement, you then did an elbow-drop on the same spot. “If you set me up with that ringtone _ever again_ —”

“yeah, yeah,” Sans murmured, grinning ear to nonexistent ear as you flounced back to Skull. “you’re right, he’s the nicest lawyer ever.” He glanced down at his phone, phalanges clicking away, fulfilling his promise to order you _all the pizza_. “you guys want thin crust again?”

“Whatever you want.” You glanced at Red, returning his huge smile as you rubbed your wind-chilled ears. “It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever! How are your deliveries going?”

Your mid-sized model somehow grinned wider, tongue flicking over his gold tooth; your face suddenly wasn’t cold anymore. “eh, they’re okay. check it out.” He pulled out his phone and tap-tapped a few times, then showed you the screen.

Holy crap, he’d gotten a couple hundred that week in tips alone! “Ha,” you said triumphantly. “Didn’t I tell you how much you could make getting people’s food for them?” You were _not_ going to speculate on how many of those tips were from being so damn fast versus him being such a charming bastard.

“ya sure did, darlin’.” He winked, and you shivered pleasantly as his voice dropped. “ya sure did.”

“THIS IS WONDERFUL NEWS, HUMAN!” Bones was beaming at you from across the couch, his newest braces on full display. “YOU HAVE BEEN SITTING INSIDE FOR TOO LONG! I HOPE THAT YOU WILL HAVE A PLEASANT DAILY COMMUTE.”

You perked up again. “That’s the best part!” you chirped. “I only have to go into the office two days a week. The rest of the time, I get to work from home!”

A hush fell over the crowd, except for Bones: “WORK? AS IN, EMPLOYMENT?” He laughed. “SILLY HUMAN! YOU CANNOT BE EMPLOYED AT HOME! THAT’S WHERE YOU EAT AND SLEEP!” He shook his head good-naturedly. “MY BROTHER AND I LEAVE THE HOUSE AT NIGHT TO WORK, AND RED HAS…UH…” He leaned over to wave a long, bony hand in front of Red’s face. “RED? ARE YOU FALLING ASLEEP?”

Red looked as if someone had offered him a nice handshake, then yanked his arm off and slapped him with it. “yer gonna be here most of the time?” he inquired.

“Uh…yeah. Mr. Owen’s in court almost every day, so there’s no need for me to stay in the office. I mean, I’ll probably be in my room, but…” You glanced around, your jubilation fading a little. “Is the magic thing really that bad? I can’t go just anywhere for work, you know. I have to be able to take calls, and there’s a bunch of confidentiality issues if you’re using public Wi-Fi.”

“you’re fine,” Sans said firmly, and he and Skull hoisted their smiles back up. “you don’t have to go anywhere. let me know if you need me to soundproof your room.”

Red grunted, then pulled out his phone and started scrolling through something. “yep. good times.” Tap, tap. “think i might go on a beer run. anybody want me to grab ya some? if y’ask nicely, i’ll let ya pay for it.”

No one answered. You stared at him in bewilderment, but he wouldn’t look at you. It was tempting to open a meaningful dialogue by standing up and body-slamming him, but you decided against it: not only would it hurt you more than it’d hurt him, he was obviously thinking pretty hard. You’d better leave him alone for now, even if it was bugging the crap out of you.

“WELL, IT SEEMS VERY STRANGE TO ME, BUT STRANGE THINGS CAN ALSO BE GOOD!” proclaimed Bones. “FOR EXAMPLE, WHEN WE WERE ON OUR ROUNDS THE OTHER NIGHT—”

Everyone was happy to let him ramble into the weird silence, seguing into a discussion of the animal videos you’d sent him the other day, then a scholarly debate on which was cuter, puppies or kittens. From there, it was easy to smooth over the remaining awkwardness by pulling up your favorite playlist of cute videos on the TV, through which you soon collectively determined that the answer was in fact “baby otters.”

Meanwhile, Red was still glaring at his phone, and you finally decided to try a different ploy. There were two cupcakes left, so you grabbed one and took a bite out of the other, allowing the tip of your nose to get dunked in icing. Then you wandered to his end of the couch and thrust the whole one in his face. “Here you go,” you said around a mouthful of spongy sugar-mush. “Last one. ‘s good luck.”

“no, thanks,” he mumbled, shifting away from you, sockets glued to his screen.

You tapped the bottom of the cupcake on his head. He finally glanced up, still scowling. “Come on, crankypants,” you said cheerfully, and tore another bite out of yours. “I—”

Two things immediately became apparent: one, the apartment was so well-heated that the cupcake icing had partly liquefied; and two, there was only so much real estate on your nose. When you took that second bite and got more icing on it, the excess had no place to go but right down your front. “Dammit,” you complained, looking at your formerly nice interview blouse, now a nice interview blouse with Ninja-Turtle-green frosting on the boob. “Here,” you ordered, holding the intact cupcake out to Red. “Take this for a minute. By which I mean, eat it.”

No reaction, except for a strangled sound. When you glanced up, Red wasn’t looking at the cupcake. He was looking at your frosted nose and distended cheek and crumb-y mouth, but he wasn’t laughing or smirking. Instead, a scarlet haze was creeping over his face; his eyelights had gotten weirdly bright, drifting from your chest to your mouth and back.

You flushed as you sensed the other skeletons turning to look. In a last-ditch effort to salvage your dignity, you scrubbed your face with your sleeve. Then, without thinking, you licked a tiny bit from your hand, trying to sound playful. “Okay, I know I’m not really selling it, but seriously, this is so _good_. I—”

Red’s fist slammed into the couch arm. “fuck!” He leapt to his feet, his entire skull bright crimson, ribcage heaving. “do you have _any idea_ what yer doin’?!”

Sans and Skull were on their feet, too. “red,” warned Sans, very low.

The mid-sized skeleton looked you over, your wide eyes and trembling hands as you raised the cupcakes in self-defense—he shook his head, still breathing like he’d just run from his apartment and back. “ya know what? _bye_!”

You gaped at him. “What?! Red, what the hell are you—”

No good: he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh.
> 
> (PSA: the most implausible part of this story to date is the doctor just having the implant handy. You usually have to make a separate appointment for that. Also, it tends to cause period weirdness more than anything, though it does sometimes help. It's a godsend for those of us with squirrel-brain, where having to take pills in a timely fashion would fail quicker than you could say "rhythm method." 
> 
> Also, there really are nice lawyers. I've worked for them.)


	3. And Coming...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had most of this left over from the end of Chapter 2, where it was officially Too Much for one chapter, so here you go. Warning: angst.

There were lots of nominees for Worst Part of This Now-Shitty Evening, but the winning contestant was probably the moment you noticed Sans and Skull whispering to each other and shooting you worried little glances, as though you were a toddler or old person who might burst into tears at any moment. It was sort of sweet, but it mostly made you want to…well, cry, and then murder everything. Never mind if that just proved their point! _Murder!_

Even worse: it confirmed your suspicion that they knew exactly why Red had taken off like that. Given the timing of his mood swing, it was obviously related to you working so much from home, which meant it was something to do with their plumbing issues…and then…cupcake? What the effing crap?!

The pizza arrived not long after Red’s departure, but no one wanted it anymore. “I don’t get it,” you mumbled for the eighteenth time as you helped Sans put it away. “What’s _wrong_ with him? I wasn’t even doing anything!”

Sans gave an aggressive sigh. “no, you weren’t,” he said, as though trying to convince you. “it’s red’s friggin’ fault.”

You waited, almost fearfully, for him to elaborate, but Skull made an elephant-like sound of angry agreement from the kitchen doorway, then stepped over to brush your hair off your forehead. “sorry, pumpkin, but we’ve gotta go. work starts in a couple of minutes.”

“Oh. Right.” You moved away from the fridge. “Thanks for coming,” you told him, letting the giant skeleton lean over for you to bonk your head against his sternum. “I don’t want to break bro code, or whatever, but…tell me if you hear from him?” you pleaded into his jacket.

He nodded, reluctantly moving aside so you could hug Bones, accepting his and then Skull’s congratulations on your new job. Then they headed to the front door, with Sans close behind; you caught a few words about letting Red cool off before you heard the door shut.

Your roommate came back to find you struggling to close the pizza boxes’ lids. For once, he didn’t give you any crap about how the little flaps were supposed to be tucked in; he just lifted them from your grasp, folded them shut, and settled them neatly against the trash can. “why don’t you get some sleep, kid?” Sans suggested, coming up to tug lightly on your hair. “probably wanna keep your phone off for now. i’ll come get you if he shows up, ‘less he’s drunk.”

Despite your best efforts, your eyes were stinging again. “Okay,” you mumbled. “Thanks.”

You heard the distinctive sound of Sans grinding his teeth; you watched him remove his jacket, tie it backwards around his hipbones to create a bumper, and hold his arms out. That was all the invitation you needed to throw yourself into a hug – boner and sore arm be _damned_ – and let a few tears stain his white t-shirt. “it’s gonna be okay,” he whispered, stroking your back.

You made a noise of general disagreement, turning your head to avoid sniffling right where his ear should be. How was anything going to be okay if Red had reached the point of “just fucking disappear again”? Last time, he thought he’d be torn from his happy new life here and thrust back into the violent hellhole he came from—how was a weird, sort-of-sexy smell and a chronic case of Mr. Happy anywhere near as bad as that?!

Sans tugged on your hair again. “hey. it’s pronounced ‘you’re right, sans, thank you.’” One more squeeze, and he released you, forehead resting on yours. “go to bed, kiddo. i’ll let you know if anything happens. okay?”

“Okay.” Before he could move, you took hold of Sans’ skull again and pulled him down for another quick kiss atop the head. “Good night, Sans. Thanks again for the job.”

For some reason, that made him wince a little. “no problem. g’night, (y/n).”

You took his advice and shut your phone off before you went to bed. You did slide it under your pillow first, though, in case the Text Fairy came. Then, unsurprisingly, you spent most of the night tossing and turning. Of course, you had a lot on your mind, but it hurt to realize that you were mostly fighting sleep because you didn’t want to miss it if Red showed up.

He didn’t, of course. You eventually drifted off, and probably had some weird, sad dreams, but it was a relief to wake up the next morning without remembering any of them. It was neither a surprise _nor_ a relief to check the bed for the familiar depressions of a skeleton’s pelvis lying in the same spot for several hours, or the scent of woodsmoke on your sheets, and find nothing.

When you turned your phone on and found it similarly Redless, you _were_ surprised to see a text from Skull asking if you were okay. That made you smile a little—he usually didn’t like texting, or anything that made him look at a tiny screen for too long. That warmed your heart enough to propel you out of bed and get dressed to see if he was here.

Sure enough, he was seated at the kitchen table, watching Sans make waffles. They hailed you as though you were a long-lost queen returning to her people, and you answered with decently fake cheer; you didn’t ask about Red, and they didn’t mention him, though Sans kept checking his phone. As a diversion, you asked Skull if he’d slept at all after his overnight security gig, then scolded him when the answer was no, with Sans cracking wise about _secure_ -ing some shut-eye.

From there, the day went about as well as it could’ve. There was plenty of pizza to reheat as you marathoned your favorite shows, and without Red around to complain about “this toddler shit,” you could enjoy all the cartoons you wanted; not only were there some damn good ones on Netflix, they were easier on Skull’s eyes than most live-action stuff or video games, so you didn’t have to worry about going too long and giving him a headache.

Having two guys instead of three also simplified seating arrangements. You alternated between smushing yourself between the two skeletons, perching on a cushion in Skull’s lap, tactfully excusing yourself to go to the bathroom when he started squirming too much, and sitting down between them again. It probably wasn’t your imagination that they each…yeah…for almost the entire time, but somehow, the subject never _came up_ , ha ha.

Hm. Pondering what Sans had said about the pipes getting messed up, you wondered what exactly this was doing to them health-wise. Skull only used his magic for work or grocery trips, and Sans was more of a homebody than ever, but Red was a very different story. Even if he only delivered stuff for a couple hours a day, it was still steady, continuous usage—Vermilion had decided that they needed a car, so they were both working more than usual to save up for it. You doubted he would let Red slack off because he was wasting magic lusting after “THE HUMAN,” which never sounded as affectionate from him as it did coming from Bones or Pap.

The day passed in a tolerable fashion till the early afternoon, when your phone suddenly dinged mid-theme song. Skull watched you scrabble at it as Sans hit Pause:

**Creative Name for Red**

Askk;hfv32bn4

**You**

RED WHAT THE FUCK

**Creative Name for Red**

Shqwuyey23grf

**You**

WHAT THE FUCK, RED

I AM ASKING YOU

The three of you waited for a further response. There was none.

You were not amused.

“should we check with vermilion?” Sans suggested doubtfully.

It was tempting, but… “No, it’ll just start another fight,” you said, tucking your phone into your butt-side pocket. “Assuming they’re not having one right now.”

No one could argue with that, so they didn’t. The mood was totally ruined, but you all gamely watched TV till it started getting dark out; at this time of year, that meant it was dinnertime, and you had to put some nicer pants on.

Luckily, you were just going downstairs, because it was Bones’ turn to cook tonight. If anyone could pretend nothing was wrong, it was him: he greeted you as cheerily as ever, nattering away about animal videos as he sat you down and served chicken alfredo with juice boxes. Though he was obviously getting sleepy, Skull directed the conversation so that you didn’t have to say much of anything; Sans stayed quiet, but kept glancing between you and his phone, unable to hide his concern or irritation.

That didn’t make you feel much better. You just wanted to go home and get back under the covers, even if Red wasn’t going to join you.

The meal was almost over, and you were entertaining hopes of getting away scot-free when Bones suddenly paused mid-plate-pickup to look you in the eye. “HUMAN? ARE YOU FEELING ALL RIGHT?”

“Uh…sure,” you said, moving your cheeks in a smilish direction. “Just tired, I guess. And…you know.” You poked at your leftover noodles. “Sorry I’m not much fun right now.”

He made as close to a clucking sound as a skeleton could. “NONSENSE! NO MATTER HOW BADLY RED HAS BEHAVED, I WANT YOU TO KNOW HOW HAPPY WE ARE WITH YOUR SUCCESS, AND HOW MUCH WE APPRECIATE YOUR COMPANY.”

You blinked stupidly at the sudden change in topic. “What?” Hadn’t you just been sulking this whole time? How could anyone appreciate that, even a Papyrus in full-on make-it-all-better mode?

“YES! RED! AND YOUR COMPANY!” Bones paused to retrieve your plate and shovel your leftovers into his mouth – _ew_. Well, he _had_ come from a world where no one wasted any food – then dumped the dishes in the sink, too enthused to notice Sans and Skull glancing at each other in alarm. “IT MUST BE DIFFICULT TO BE SURROUNDED BY MONSTERS WITH SUCH ACTIVE MAGIC, BUT YOUR FRIENDSHIP HAS NEVER WAVERED!” He sighed gently. “EVEN KNOWING WHY RED HAD TO ESCAPE YOUR VICTORY CELEBRATION, YOU HAVE NOT DEMANDED ANY—”

“No, I don’t,” you interrupted.

Perhaps for the first time since you’d met, Bones was speechless. “YOU…YOU DON’T?”

“No! I don’t know why he ran off! All I know is that these guys’ magic is…uh…active.” You gave the others a significant look, and Sans grimaced at Skull to _do something_.

“OH!” Oblivious to his brother’s frantic cease-and-desist gestures, Bones perked right back up. “MY BROTHER AND I HAD A LONG TALK ABOUT THIS LAST NIGHT, SO I CAN EXPLAIN!”

“Really?” you asked eagerly over Skull’s despairing sigh. “Please do!”

Bones puffed out his ribcage. “VERY WELL!” Sans buried his face in his bony hands, and Skull closed his eyes as his brother barreled on: “THESE THREE HAVE EACH COME TO REGARD YOU AS A LIKELY MATE, BUT FIGHTING TO THE DEATH FOR MATING RIGHTS DOES NOT SEEM VERY TYPICAL HERE, AND YOU OBVIOUSLY PREFER EACH ONE EQUALLY, WHICH LIMITS YOUR OPTIONS.” The younger skeleton shook his head. “RED IS AFRAID THAT YOUR CHARMS ARE TOO GREAT TO RESIST, AND IT MAY BE BEST TO KEEP YOUR DISTANCE FROM EACH OTHER. PERMANENTLY.”

Your stomach lurched. “Permanently?” you repeated. What the hell was he talking about? Why was he saying exactly what you’d been afraid of? And why did the others look like teenagers whose mom had just found their porn?! “But… _why_? I mean, how can it be that bad?”

“YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN A MONSTER, AS FAR AS I KNOW, SO IT MAY BE DIFFICULT FOR YOU TO APPRECIATE HOW POWERFUL MAGIC CAN BE, AND HOW CHARMING YOU ARE.” Bones gave another, much deeper sigh. “WE ALL WANT WHAT IS BEST FOR YOU, AND IF THEY CANNOT TRUST THEMSELVES TO BEHAVE APPROPRIATELY, IT WOULD _NOT_ BE BEST FOR YOU TO BE NEAR THEM. ACCORDING TO MY BROTHER, RED CANNOT RECONCILE HIS CONCERN FOR YOUR WELFARE _AND_ HIS FEAR OF COMMITMENT WITH HIS TENDER, LOVING FEELINGS, NOT TO MENTION HIS RAW CARNAL URGES.” He held up a knowing finger. “MY BROTHER IS IN A SIMILAR PREDICAMENT, THOUGH HE IS NOT AFRAID OF COMMITMENT. IN FACT, HE SAID HE WOULD RATHER DIE THAN GIVE YOU UP.”

You were genuinely afraid to touch your face, it was so hot. Mental note: the next time you wanted to know something, you needed to ask him first…

Sans had let his hands drop, adopting a carefully neutral expression. Meanwhile, Skull was glaring daggers at his brother. “you weren’t supposed to tell her that!” he hissed.

“HM?” Bones cocked his head in puzzlement. “BUT THEN SHE WOULD NOT HEAR IT!” He frowned at the others. “SHE DESERVES TO KNOW WHY RED IS BEHAVING THIS WAY. I ALSO BELIEVE IT IS THE IDEAL TIME TO TELL HER HOW THANKFUL WE ARE TO HAVE HER WITH US, AND TO APOLOGIZE FOR BEING TROUBLESOME. …SHOULD…SHOULD WE _NOT_ TELL HER THAT?”

“yes,” snapped Sans. “of _course_ we should! if red had any decency, he’d be here to say it himself!” He glanced at you, his brow creasing—it still fascinated you when their bones did that. “i’m sorry we didn’t tell you already, kiddo. we were holding out to make red do it.” Skull shook his head in disgust, and Sans grimaced. “but no, talking is hard, so he had to go off on another goddamn bender instead!”

“still,” said Skull, and you all looked at him in surprise. The moment your eyes met, he ducked his head, tracing a pattern in the fake-wood tabletop with one claw. “it’s a pretty big problem, and none of us know what to do about it. i don’t blame him for being scared.”

“What’s a big problem, exactly?” You frowned at Sans, who was watching you with strange intensity. “We’re talking about the thing with your magic, right? You made it sound like it was—well, not _no_ big deal, but something you could handle.”

“he lied,” Skull said bluntly.

“i did not!” snapped Sans. “i had no way of knowing he’d gotten that bad! he wouldn’t fucking tell us anything!” He checked his phone again, then jammed it back into his pocket. “I’m not blaming him for being scared, either. i’m blaming him for refusing to deal with it!”

“Deal with what?” you demanded. “Your stupid plumbing issues?” You couldn’t help snorting. “Is that why he ran off? Does he have a thing for cupcakes I never knew about?”

Skull heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “he has a thing for _you_ ,” he said, blood-red eyelight focusing on you like a rifle scope. “don’t be dense again. you know how we all feel.”

The heat crept down from your face, spreading through your body. It was easy to revert to denial that you weren’t that special, etc. etc., but…well, you’d seen and _felt_ the evidence firsthand, hadn’t you? Besides, there was no arguing with the way Red had looked at you, or how the others had been ready to intervene…or with the way Skull was looking at you. Instead, you frowned at Sans. “I take it I should worry about it now?”

Your roommate flinched. “i’m sorry, kiddo. i didn’t mean to downplay it that much. but…” Your scalp prickled as he trailed off. “these guys are exactly right. we don’t know what to do, and red can’t handle it.”

You exhaled. “Okay, then. Red’s feeling…leaky, and you guys are too? And it _is_ that bad. Yes?”

They averted their eyes, but their expressions were so eloquent that you had to swallow hard and take a sip of juice before you could continue, “So where do we go from here?” You tried to keep your voice from rising too loud or high: “It’s not like we _have_ to split up, right? There’s no way that’s our best option.” You glanced between them again, chest tightening further as you tried to force a laugh. “Come on, guys. This is the part where you agree with me.”

The silence went on a little too long, both staring at the table, Skull picking at a crack in his mandible. “we were talking about that last night,” the latter finally mumbled. “even without our magic acting up, it’s…” He paused, and you waited, heart hammering, as he gathered his thoughts. “we’re not easy to be around. we chase off humans who want to date you—”

You couldn’t help scowling at the reminder of Tristian. By the looks on their faces, they also remembered how you’d chewed them out when you overheard them joking about the setup.

“we make you go away during heats,” Skull continued. “you always have to think about how you smell, whether you should get different medical stuff…” His huge hands clenched the edge of the table. “you have to worry about us fighting, b-biting you, that guy who tried to _spit_ on you last time we all went out… Now we can’t even be around you without—” He gestured helplessly at his lap, and you tried not to crane your neck for a better look.

To your further dismay, Sans was nodding. “it’s true,” he mumbled, and glanced at you almost fearfully. “i mean, we’ve never really talked about this, but…you can’t hang out with a bunch of skeletons forever. what happens when you want to get married, or have kids?”

“If I ever do, then I’ll tell you, and we’ll deal with it,” you said impatiently. “Right now, I don’t want anything besides you guys. I can’t imagine a human making me happier than you do.”

Skull relaxed a little, but Sans didn’t look convinced. “humans…” His eyelights were threatening to go out entirely. “you…you don’t live that long. it’s—”

“What the hell?” you snapped, trying to sound righteously angry and not on the verge of tears. “Are you serious? A few days ago, it was ‘no worries, we’ll just deal with it,’ and now you want me to go screw some human guy before I hit my expiration date?!”

Sans’ eye flamed blue, his voice deepening to a guttural snarl of “hell fucking _no_ , we don’t!”

You sat, stunned, afraid to look at Skull – who was breathing _very_ heavily – or away from Sans. He shut his left socket, jamming the heel of his hand into it. “sorry,” he said, his voice still rough. “it’s…i’m sorry. of _course_ we don’t want to lose you!” The skeleton lowered his hand, his socket half open. “but we’ve gotta be realistic. if you ever want a family, it’s probably better to start when you’re—”

“God damn it, I _have_ a family!” You slammed your phone onto the table for effect; it was their turn to cower as you scrolled through your contacts. “I’m only going to say this to all of you once,” you snarled, finding Red’s number and tapping the call button. The default voicemail message immediately started playing. “I _told_ him his brother would delete his stupid porno greeti—hey!” you barked into the phone, putting it on speaker. “Listen to me, ‘cause I know everything! And I don’t care if you all have creepy super-senses, or if people are assholes, or you can’t help being horny and weird! I’m not leaving any of you till you can look me in the eye and say you don’t like me anymore! And if you try to drive me away ‘for my own good’ like some shitty anime character, then _fuck off_ , and it’s not going to work! Do you understa—”

Beep. The recording piped up, _“To replay your message, press 1. To—”_

You stared at the phone, trying to decide whether to call him again or try a text. Was he passed out somewhere, or getting drunk again, or in a fight? When would he check his voicemail, assuming he didn’t just delete it?

Your eyes slowly rose to find Skull looking straight down; he was shaking a little, sweat rolling off him as he turned away from you. “yeah, you’re not getting the point,” Sans said reluctantly, reaching down to adjust himself.

You didn’t say anything, just inclined your head in an invitation to speak and a silent assurance that this had _better_ be good.

“see, the problem isn’t whether you like us or not. the problem is, we _know_ you do,” Sans explained. “when you say stuff like that, it’s not helpful. it’s…provocative. to be honest, pretty much everything you do is.” Another adjustment, and a sudden grin. “even when you’re failing at cupcakes like a complete dork. that was the _cutest_ damn thing, by the way.”

It was? You were just being your dumb self, there must be a mistake somewhere—but he sounded so affectionate, and Skull had such a soft, goofy smile that you looked down at your lap, your hands clenching.

“…yeah.” Sans was fidgeting again, poking at his metacarpals. You hadn’t seen him this nervous since he finally confessed to you. His eyelights were actually shaking. “i’m not saying it’s your fault that we’re like this. hell, you didn’t even know it was happening. but now that you do…” Fidget. “you’re so sweet, and loyal, a-and giving—i’m afraid that at this rate, one of us might get desperate and really pressure you into…things, and then…you’d feel like you had to with all of us,” he said in a rush. “that would be wrong on _so_ many levels, i—”

“Hold on. Let me get this straight,” you interjected, sounding much calmer than you felt. Your mouth was dry, your entire body tingling as the heat pooled in your middle. “We’re one hundred percent sure that it’s not enough to just spend less time together? Our only options are ‘break up,’ ‘have sex,’ or ‘do nothing until we _have_ to either break up or have sex’?”

“yes,” Sans said firmly, looking directly at you. “those are our only options.”

There was a long pause. “bones,” said Skull, and you realized guiltily that you’d forgotten the other skeleton was there. “go take a shower. i’ll do the dishes.”

Bones looked puzzled again. “BUT THIS IS EXTREMELY INTERESTING, AND I WOULD LIKE TO HEAR THE REST.”

Skull didn’t move, or say anything, but his crimson eyelight swiveled toward his brother, expanding slightly.

Bones sighed. “UNDERSTOOD,” he said glumly.

It was unbearable to wait for him to trundle down the hall, open the bathroom door, get all of his shower supplies together – he was a _skeleton_ what the fuck did he even _need_ – start the water, and finally close the door. Sans covered his face again; Skull stared off into space while you tried to keep from screaming and/or throwing anything.

When the door closed, you re-dialed Red’s voicemail, waiting for the beep. “So, Red. I’m going to be nice and assume you planned to consult me at some point about this whole thing,” you said on speaker. “I—” Embarrassment stuck your tongue to the roof of your mouth. Only sheer determination and awareness of the recording’s time limit made you forge ahead: “If it’s a choice between not being with you guys and, um, _being_ with you, I’m not leaving.” You heard the other two make startled sounds, and ignored them. “Nothing about us is conventional to begin with,” you said, more steadily, “and I seriously don’t c—”

_"To replay your message, press 1. To—”_

Damn, damn, crap! In a flame-cheeked frenzy, you hung up and called right back, not looking at the others. The moment the voicemail thingy beeped, you snapped, “I don’t care what anyone’s going to think! We’ve been through so much crap already, we owe it to each other to at least try to work this out!”

“(y/n)!” Sans barked, forcing you to meet his suddenly furious gaze. “do you hear yourself?” he demanded. “this is what i was talking about! you don’t ‘owe’ us anything, especially not sex!”

“I’m not saying I owe you sex!” you snarled back. “I’m saying we need to decide what’s best for everyone, and if it turns out that _is_ the best way to keep us all happy, then why not?”

His sockets had gone blank. “are…are you _serious_? you’re willing to fuck three different monsters to ‘keep us happy’?!”

“ _Excuse_ me? You’re three different monsters that I _love_! If that’s what it takes to keep your magic healthy and let us stay together, then yes, I’m absolutely willing to do it!” You swallowed again, fighting light-headedness. “I mean…aren’t you?”

Another pause.

_“To replay your message, press 1. To—”_

Both of you waited to get another voicemail going before Sans responded, “it’s not just about whether or not we all want to do it! even if it turns out the three of us _can_ share a mate, do you seriously wanna be stuck with us for the rest of your life?”

That did shut you up for a second. But…

Well, of course, you’d heard them use the word “mate” before. But to hear it applied to _you_ was so arousing that you could hardly sit still—and judging by the way the skeletons were scooting their chairs back, they could smell exactly how you felt. “Like I said! Why would I pick some theoretical human over _three_ guys I already love?” You rapped your knuckles on the table. “If you all agree not to bite me, then it’s fine!”

“oh, for—how would it be ‘fine’?” demanded Sans. “are you seriously okay with us passing you around like a bag of popcorn?!”

Oh, _hell_ no, he did _not_ just “Holy shit! Are you trying to slut-shame me now?”

Sans winced, realizing what he’d said. “of course not! i just—”

“Then don’t imply that having sex with you guys would use me up or degrade me somehow! Seriously, dude, what the—”

_"To replay your message, press 1. To—”_

Pause. Tap. Tap tap tap tap. “—fuck!”

“i’m sorry! you’re right, that was a crappy way to put it! i meant that you shouldn’t feel like it’s your responsibility to do it with anyone, much less three stupid monsters!”

“Would you stop dumping on yourself? Quit acting like I’m sacrificing myself to save you from your own horniness! I’m a consenting adult, just like you guys, and I…uh…” No! Someone had to say this, and you were apparently the chosen one! “I…kinda wanted to try it anyway, before the magic thing started.”

Silence. Sans’ eyelights shrank; Skull’s expanded till it nearly filled the entire socket.

_“To replay your message, press 1. To—”_

Your fingers went tap tatatatap, anger completely overcoming your embarrassment. “Just to be very clear, Sans. What do _you_ think we should do? Red’s voting on ‘do nothing and hope it goes away.’ _I’m_ voting on ‘try to take this to its logical conclusion.’” You glanced at Skull, whose eye was glowing faintly, and you swallowed hard. “Skull. What do you say?”

The crimson orb slid from you to Sans to your phone and back. After a small eternity, he said, “if it’s just us three, then…maybe.” Pause. “yes.”

Your heart leapt, along with other parts of your body. “You—”

_“To replay your message, press 1. To—”_

Tatatatata “Okay, then,” you managed.

“skull, you can’t be serious!” Sans’ socket was flaming blue again. “you know _damn_ well we can’t just ‘try’ it when we’re this attached to her! it’s all or nothing! what if red and i would rather _not_ do that to her?”

“do what? listen to her? let her decide for herself?” the bigger skeleton retorted. “why isn’t she allowed to say what we’ve all been thinking?”

“Yeah, Captain Friend-Zone,” you said, more bitterly than you intended. “You wanted to be mature and talk things out, right? Don’t change your mind and act like I’m doing something wrong because you don’t like what I’m saying!”

Sans was glaring at both of you now, his eyes blazing. “i don’t believe this! why am i the bad guy for giving a shit about what happens to you, _again_? i—”

_“To replay your message, press 1. To—”_

Tatatatata and you cut in: “You’re the bad guy for telling me I’m too stupid to have an opinion when _you’re_ just too insecure to believe me!”

The light in Sans’ sockets winked out. “i…” He blinked, the white slowly reappearing as he shook his head. “i’m not—”

“yeah, you are,” Skull snapped down at him. “you’re as bad as red. he won’t admit how scared he is, but at least he’s not blaming her for it!”

“hell yes, i’ll admit it! i _am_ scared! somebody has to be!” Sans leaned forward, eyes boring into you. “we’re not humans, kid. if we do this, that’s it! even if you changed your mind, we wouldn’t let you go! _ever_!”

“Stop calling me a goddamn kid, Sans! You think I don’t understand what I’m getting into? Do you honestly think I’m dumb and irresponsible enough to say all this for fun?!” You leaned closer to the phone. “I’m sweating like a _pig_ , Red, and my arm really hurts! This is _not_ fun!”

Skull’s eye focused on your upper arm, and contracted again. “i’m sorry it hurts,” he said quietly, melting you a little.

Sans’ eyes narrowed, too. You waited in tense silence—

_“To replay your message, press 1. To—”_

_­_ —tatatatata because you could _see_ him struggling with himself. “Watch it,” you snapped, and he started. “Don’t give me that look, Sans. You’re really upset, and you’re about to be stupid and hurtful because you don’t know what else to do. At least Red was smart enough to leave before he said something he couldn’t take back!”

You’d never seen Sans glare at you like that. “oh, yeah, he’s _so_ smart, ditching us and making _me_ talk this shit over for him! and you know me _so_ well that you’re telling me we should just fuck it all better!”

Silence, except for the table creaking under Skull’s grip. Sans’ teeth clamped on his bony lower lip as you stared at him, your eyes welling up. “i…” He fell forward and let his skull _thonk_ into the table with each word: “shit, shit, _shit_.” He shook his head, rolling it back and forth along the fake wood surface. “okay. you know what? here’s what we’re gonna—”

_“To replay your message, press 1. To—”_

Sans waited for you to call Red again, and for it to say:

“ _Voice mailbox full.”_

You all stared stupidly at the phone as it gave a little screw-you beep and disconnected. “Oh,” you said.

Sans raised his head just enough to _thonk_ it again. Skull growled at him, then turned back to you as you picked up your phone. “are you okay?” he asked.

You didn’t answer. Your thumbs tapped a few times, finding your group text with all six skeletons and typing as fast as you could with trembling fingers:

**You**

Hi, fellas! Who has two thumbs and needs some me time?

[thumb-down emojis]

Ding ding ding!

Your prize is: leaving me alone for 24 hours!!

The next monster to approach me without permission will DIE :D

See you much later!!! Or else!!!!!

[heart-smooch and skull emojis]

The monsters stared at their phones as you got up, grabbed your purse, and retrieved your coat from the back of your chair. “uh,” said Sans.

“That _absolutely_ means you, Sans. I’m going home, and I _don’t care_ where you go—here, Papyrus’ house, Murder Alley—anywhere I am _not_.” You tried not to let your breath catch, or else you were going to start crying. “Consider it practice for your noble goal of staying _far_ away from me.” Without looking at Sans, and ignoring his attempt to speak, you grabbed Skull’s outstretched hand and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry, Skull. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Get some sleep.”

He nodded, his eyelight faint and sad. “okay.” Damn him, he had to go and press his mouth to the back of your fingers, his huge thumb brushing the back of your hand. “i love you.”

The rest of your vision blurred. “I love you, too,” you muttered, and turned to flee before you completely lost it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double sigh

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot
> 
> More like a one-NOT
> 
> Ha ha
> 
> kill me


End file.
